


Breathless

by pokerap



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 17:55:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11041287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokerap/pseuds/pokerap
Summary: He can't disappoint Python, now can he?





	Breathless

The final battle against Rigel looms over their heads like the castle they can see in the distance. According to their scouts it will take them a couple of hours to march to the castle’s gates and from there, the battle will begin. They have the night to themselves and they’ll march first thing in the morning, but it seems like no one can relax.

Well, no one except Python, who once again doesn’t seem bothered by anything that’s happening. He’s sprawled out in the tent he shares with Forsyth when the knight goes looking for him, already dozing off despite the sun’s position in the sky. Were it even a little later Forsyth could understand sleeping early, but this is _too_ early. “Wake up, Python!” He kicks lightly at the archer’s feet to rouse him from his bedroll. “There’s no reason to be asleep this early! We still have dinner to prepare and supplies to pack - you can’t afford to sleep now!”

Python groans and runs the back of his hand across his eyes. How long was the archer asleep? Forsyth isn’t sure he wants to know. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He’s obviously trying to placate Forsyth, which he usually doesn’t bother to do until _after_ he’s teased him a little. That’s odd. Forsyth doesn’t have time to give it much thought though, and he holds out a hand for the archer to take so he can pull him up.

Once Python’s on his feet, Forsyth lets go of his hand and motions for him to follow. “We’ve been tasked with packing up the weapons. Keep an eye out for anything that’s in poor shape and needs to be discarded!”

“Uh huh,” Python nods, but as usual he seems completely bored with the task they’ve been given. He’ll never show any interest in their duties in the Deliverance, will he? It’s frustrating to see his best friend’s lack of drive, but Python’s always been this way, just as Forsyth’s always been dedicated and determined.

They sort through the weapons easily enough; Python does a surprisingly good job and he doesn’t even take forever to do it, which is _also_ strange. Forsyth’s about to ask him about it when Python speaks up, “Tomorrow really is the final battle, huh.”

Forsyth stares at him in silence for a moment, his head cocked to the side like he’s not sure what to make of Python’s words. “You’re only just now realizing that?”

Python shakes his head. “No, I knew that. It’s just finally sinking in, I guess.”

The knight sighs heavily and rests his chin on his hand. “You’re prepared, aren’t you? There’s no turning back now.”

“I know that.” The words are snapped and for a brief moment Python almost looks agitated. The moment’s over quickly though, and Python’s back to looking sort of bored as usual. “I wouldn’t leave now anyway.”

“Oh?” Forsyth questions. “I would’ve thought you’d prefer to sneak off somewhere to nap.”

“Well, yeah,” Python says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “but I’m not going to leave you guys in a bind when you might need me.”

There’s a moment of silence while Forsyth takes that in (and finds it sort of touching, maybe) and Python considers his words. Then he speaks up again, “Don’t you dare die on me.”

Forsyth isn’t sure how to respond. It’s the first time Python’s ever expressed a sentiment so serious even if it _is_ worded like that. Even when they first joined the Deliverance Python never asked him to be careful. It’s strange that he would now. “Python…”

The archer leans forward then; he’s faster than Forsyth and the kiss lasts only a brief, fleeting moment before suddenly Python’s standing and picking up some of the weapons they’re getting rid of. “For luck.” He says with a cheeky grin, then he’s raising his hand in farewell before leaving.

He finds himself sitting there with a hand raised to his lips. He’s probably bright red. He doesn’t really care.

He won’t die in this battle. He can’t disappoint Python, now can he?

(And maybe he wants to repay that over and over and over again, until they’re both breathless.)


End file.
